


Since We've No Place To Go

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7761964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Booth and Sweets are snowed in. What to do...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Since We've No Place To Go

**Author's Note:**

> The lack of Booth/Sweets in this fandom is criminal.

Some days, Booth wondered about what his life would be like if things had gone differently. If, for example, he and Bones had ever taken the plunge and ended up together. If he had married Rebecca. If he’d never joined the FBI. It was always the passing thought, the question of if where he was now was where he should be. It wasn’t a question he lingered on, but it was one that recurred in his thoughts.

Sweets probably had some psychological mumbo jumbo about it, probably could even tie in the concept of Catholic guilt if he was so inclined. Or if Booth had actually sat down and talked about it. The thing was, so far as Booth was concerned, the passing thoughts were just that – passing. He liked where he was. He liked his current life.

Even though right now, his house was effectively buried under at least a foot of snow.

The freak blizzard was burying the entirety of Washington DC under a seemingly impossible amount of snow. Trying to go outside and shovel it was a futile effort given the accumulation, as there was already at least six inches, with no sign of it stopping anytime soon. Reluctantly, the FBI seemed to accept that their agents weren’t going to be able to come in, since they’d probably die of frostbite or end up trapped on the highways before they made it anywhere. The Jeffersonian Institute had been closed for the duration of the blizzard for the same reason, though Cam had required significantly less cajoling to do so than the Bureau. Personally, Booth figured it was too cold for murder anyway, though he knew that was rarely an impediment.

So he was snowed in, stuck at home, watching the snow fall, with only Lance Sweets as company.

Some days he wondered about his life taking a different direction. Other days, he couldn’t imagine any other life. Today was one of the latter. 

Sweets passed him a mug of hot chocolate, having opted for staying in just his pajamas, meaning a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt, given the snow storm outside. Booth let out a contented sigh as Sweets leaned against him, reaching for the book on the table.

Although Booth liked just sitting there, Sweets wrapped close to him, Booth was also feeling a little frisky. They were snowed in, they had the house to themselves... And there was a very attractive man in his arms. And they’d long since gone past the point where Booth would delude himself that he wasn’t interested in him.

That had been an awkward couple of years. Booth’s deepening attraction had revealed itself mostly in him teasing Sweets. The brief coma he’d been in after his tumor had resulted in a dream where he and Sweets had been running a nightclub version of the Jeffersonian, married. Waking up from the coma had been a bit of a shock. When Sweets had been there when that poor kid on the subway had died, when Booth had realized how close he’d come to losing Sweets, he’d stopped the psychologist and confessed his feelings with an abrupt kiss.

Though it had taken Sweet by surprise, and an awkwardness had briefly ensued, they’d met each other after Booth had gone off to Afghanistan with a new understanding – Sweets had spent the time without Booth, and he’d recognized that he didn’t like it. It had only been a few months later that the squints at the Jeffersonian had them figured out and were pushing for them to get married – after all, Washington DC had legalized same-sex marriage that same year. Although Booth had protested the whole way as Angela and Cam had pushed them to get to the altar, he had to admit, it was probably the best thing that had happened to him. (Though, of course, it had been Brennan who’d put it plainly for him – he loved Sweets, he wanted to be married, there was no reason for him not to marry Sweets, and it wouldn’t be because of other people pushing him, it would be because it was right for them.)

Booth feeling frisky led to his hands slowly sliding down Sweets’s body. As his hands neared Sweets’s waistline, Sweets began to squirm, ticklish.

“Booth, what are you doing?” Although they were married, neither of them had really gotten into the habit of casually using the other’s first name. It had just never seemed right for them, at least most of the time. Booth’s hands continued their movement, a smile on his lips. “Booth,” Sweets said it with a genuine laugh, not just one brought on by the tickling sensation of Booth’s fingers running down his chest. It was pretty clear what Booth was doing, not that he was all too interested in complaining. 

“Part of ‘keeping warm,’” Booth grinned. “Body temperature goes up when you’re aroused, doesn’t it...” He paused for emphasis. “Doctor Sweets?”

The joke was corny beyond all belief, especially since of course Sweets wasn’t that kind of doctor, and, of course, they both knew it. But it still made Sweets chuckle, a laugh that turned into a moan as Booth’s fingers slipped under the waistband of his sweats. As Booth took Sweets’s hardening length in hand, Sweets turned his head, allowing them to share a passionate kiss. One of Sweets hands came up, fondly lingering on Booth’s cheek. 

“We could also... raise body temperature somewhere else. Say... the bed?” Sweets said, grinning. 

He could practically feel the grin on Booth’s face. “I like the way you think.” 

Though the journey from the couch to the bedroom involved getting up, going up the stairs, and making their way down the hall, they made their best effort to not separate their lips during the trip. Near the end, Booth scooped Sweets up into his arms, Sweets wrapping his legs around Booth’s body. 

Gently, Booth lay Sweets onto the bed, reaching out and pulling his shirt off. In the early days of their relationship, Sweets had been very self-conscious about his body, in comparison to Booth’s. Sweets was a psychologist, not someone who had trained to be in first the military and then an FBI field agent. Booth had been completely unconcerned – he was in love with Sweets, he didn’t need him to have rippling muscles. He just needed him to be him. It had taken a while to convince the other man, but since, Sweets had no reservations at all about exposing himself to Booth.

Booth ran his hands down Sweets chest, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats. Booth paused for a moment, looking to Sweets. “God, I love you,” he said.

Sweets responded by pulling at Booth’s shirt. Once that was gone, Sweets pulled Booth into another kiss. They held it even as they both wriggled out of their pants, gasping when their cocks, released from the cloth prison, brushed against each other. 

They continued kissing for several long moments before Booth slid away from Sweets’s mouth. He steadily moved down his husband’s body, pausing to tease a sensitive nipple. Sweets hands tangled in Booth’s hair, holding him there for a moment, then gently pushed him down further. Booth complied with the silent request, trailing kisses down his way. 

And then Booth’s mouth found its way around Sweets’s cock. Sweets threw his head back, letting out a filthy moan as Booth’s lips began to wrap around his cock. Booth had been a quick learner in how to cause Sweets to go to pieces using just his mouth. He’d only perfected the skill since they’d gotten married. Sweets struggled to remember how to breathe as Booth slowly moved up and down his cock. 

When Booth pulled off, eventually (as far as Sweets knew, it might have been minutes, it might have been days), he proceeded to run his hands up Sweets’s sides, rubbing his thumbs against Sweets’s very sensitive nipples. “What do you want?” Booth asked in a husky whisper.

It took Sweets a moment to process what Booth was asking – he was putting things in Sweets’s hands to decide what they’d do next. He thought about that for a moment, considering. “I want to be in you,” he said. 

Booth came in for a kiss, a hand moving over to the nightstand, knowing where the condoms and lube were without looking. “Whatever you want,” he said between kisses. They’d experimented in various positions, and had developed into a pattern of usually letting Booth top. But neither were opposed to the opposite – indeed, Booth had found he liked it when Sweet topped him. For a little while, he let the man he loved take control, all he had to do was lie there and let Sweets do the work. He didn’t let go very often, he had joined the military and then the FBI to be the one taking care of others. 

But for Sweets? He’d come to appreciate the value of letting his husband take care of him.

They kept kissing for a while, Booth letting the things from the nightstand rest on the bed as he cradled Sweets’s face in his hands. Eventually, they rolled, Sweets now on top of Booth. He reached down and wrapped a hand around both of their cocks, jerking them together. They both shivered, both from the stimulation and the anticipation. They’d done this before, but every time was exciting.

Sweets made the preparation quick – he wanted to be in Booth, and he wanted it nownownownownowNOW. There’d be time for teasing later, he was putting in as much effort as he could to keeping from letting this end too soon. Granted, they were probably going to be at it all day, but for right now, he wanted to be in Booth. 

With a quick kiss, he pushed into Booth. Booth let out a long moan, and then his hands wrapped around Sweets’s body, pulling him in further. Sweets began a steady rhythm and came in for a messy kiss with Booth. “I love you,” he gasped out. “Booth... Seeley...”

“Lance...” came Booth’s response, Booth began littering Sweets’s face with gentle kisses. “I love you.” There were a million things that probably could be said in this moment, but just saying those words was enough to get them across. 

At that point, there really wasn’t much left to even try holding out for. Sweets could tell that Booth was as close as he was, reaching down and wrapping a hand around Booth’s cock, knowing that a few strokes would probably be all he’d need. They came almost simultaneously, and Sweets did his best to stay fully aware of Booth’s face – Booth after orgasm was a sight that, no matter how old he got, Sweets would never be able to get enough of, knowing that Booth looked like that because of him.

Booth pulled Sweets close, not letting him out of his grip. Sweets let out a surprised noise as his husband’s arms wrapped around him, but he didn’t fight the grip. “We’re gonna be sticky and disgusting if we fall asleep like this, you know,” he said, though he didn’t particularly feel like moving anyway.

“Mmm... Don’t care. Just wanna be like this with you.”

“All day?”

“Forever.”

They both had the thought that if it never stopped snowing, they’d be content like this.


End file.
